Title: Clear Conscience
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Michael Cutter
Fandom: Doctor Who/Law & Order
Rating: R
Table: 100_tales
Prompt: 94, Duty
Author's Note: Spoilers for the Law & Order episode Falling.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Michael Cutter, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor glanced up as Michael came into the apartment, dropping his keys on the small table near the door and shrugging out of his coat. He didn't greet the Time Lord, didn't look up; the expression on his face was one of melancholy and preoccupation.

Trouble, thought the Doctor, a premonition gripping him, a feeling that he couldn't shake. Something must have happened at Michael's job today, some case that he'd had a particularly hard time with. But he seemed more quiet than usual, as though the fight had somehow gone out of him.

He sat down heavily on the couch next to the Doctor, and the Time Lord couldn't keep himself from reaching over to take Michael's hand in his own and twine their fingers together. He had to search for the right words, not wanting to say anything to upset his lover. Michael was obviously already upset.

"Did things not go well in court today?" he asked softly, hoping that it was the right thing to say. He didn't want to press Michael into talking about something that he didn't feel like discussing, but it seemed obvious that the other man needed to let his emotions out.

Michael shook his head slowly at first, then sighed and looked over at the Doctor. "You could say that," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What happened, love?" the Doctor asked, a frown furrowing his brow. He was concerned for Michael; in the time that they'd been involved, he'd never seen his lover look so .... shattered. If he'd lost a case today, it must have been one that was very important to him.

Another sigh, then Michael turned towards the Doctor, resting his cheek against the back of the couch as he regarded the Time Lord. "I .... failed someone today. Failed badly. I had a duty to them, to do what was right for them, and I didn't do it."

"I'm sure that it wasn't for lack of trying," the Doctor protested, his frown deepening. He was becoming worried for Michael's well-being; Michael seemed listless, worn down, as though whatever had happened had siphoned out some vital part of him and left him empty.

"I tried," Michael whispered, swallowing as though he was finding it hard to speak. "I tried my best to win that case. I couldn't do anything less than that. But my best wasn't good enough. She needed me -- and I failed her."

"What happened, Michael?" the Doctor asked again, growing more concerned by the moment. Michael almsot seemed on the verge of tears -- and crying was yet another thing that he'd never seen this man do since they'd first met.

"This girl .... this little girl ...." Michael looked up at the ceiling, closing his eyes and swallowing again, as if he couldn't quite get the words to come out. "Her parents wanted to take away her right to grow up. To keep her small forever .... to keep her a child .... to make it more convenient for them to take care of her."

"They .... won the case?" The Doctor couldn't help but feel shocked by Michael's words; of all the barbaric things he'd ever heard of, that was one of the worst. "That's not possible, is it? Even a child has rights. Her parents couldn't make that kind of decision for her."

"They could if she's unable to make any kind of decision for herself," Michael murmured, looking down at his hands clenched in his lap. "She's .... mentally incapacitated. That's why I felt like I needed to fight for her. Nobody else would."

"Sweetheart, I .... I'm sorry," the Doctor said softly, not knowing what other words to utter. Somehow, those didn't seem like enough, not when Michael was so obviously devastated.

"She's going to be mutilated," Michael whispered, a few tears escaping from under his closed lids and streaking down his cheeks. "They're going to have a surgery performed on her that'll keep her a child for the rest of her life. Just to make things more convenient. And I couldn't stop it."

"Michael ...." The Doctor leaned over, slipping both arms around Michael and pulling the other man into his arms. "Sometimes the good guys don't win. Sometimes you just have to do all that you can, and even if it's not enough, know that at least you tried your best."

"What do you do when your best falls short?" Michael whispered, his hands clenching into fists. "What do you do when you doubt yourself? I do, John. I've never felt so helpless before. It made me wonder if I'm finished as a prosecutor. If I'm going to keep trying ... and failing."

"You don't lose many cases, Michael," the Doctor said firmly, hoping that his words would get through to his lover. "You can't feel that losing one is going to somehow taint you. You have to keep trying, keep doing the best you can for the ones you can do some good with."

"It only takes one to make everything start going downhill," Michael sighed, his eyes still closed. "Only one to make people stop believing in you."

The Doctor turned Michael's face towards his, placing his hands on either side of the other man's face and waiting for Michael to open his eyes and meet his gaze. When he did, the Time Lord's voice was strong, firm, leaving no room for doubt that he meant what he said.

"What others believe of you isn't important in the long run," he said, his gaze holding Michael's, trying to make his words sink in. "What's important is that you believe in yourself."

"I had a duty to that girl," Michael said, his voice catching on a sob. "I failed in that duty. Who's to say I'm not going to fail others who need me, too?"

"We all have duties that we can't always fulfill," the Doctor argued, shaking his head. "Michael, you can't blame yourself whenever you lose a cse. You tried, and I know you did the best you could. But sometimes the odds are stacked against you, and you just have to accept that."

"But I should be able to keep the promises I make!" Michael burst out, a few more tears streaking down his cheeks. "Even if I only make them to myself." He fell silent again, closing his eyes, another suppressed sob shaking his slim body.

"Some promises have to be broken," the Doctor said softly, his hearts aching for Michael. Even though he obviously didn't see what Michael did every day for a living, he could still sympathize with his lover's feelings about a difficult situation. "You can't save everyone, Michael."

"I should have been able to save her," Michael whispered, his voice sounding hoarse and broken. "The way she looked at me, John .... like she knew I was trying to save her from what they'd planned, and she knew that I couldn't. Like she was trying to tell me something."

"She was probably telling you to let it go," the Doctor whispered, closing his eyes and gathering Michael close against him. He swallowed back the lump that had risen to his throat, resting his cheek against the other man's hair. "She wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

Michael sighed heavily, finally nodding and closing his eyes as his body relaxed in the Doctor's arms. "You may be right. I just .... I can't forget how she looked. Like a little doll. And she's going to be forced to stay that way for the rest of her life."

"You tried, Michael." The Doctor's voice was still soft, but his words were firm. "That's all you can do. Your conscience is clear. You did what you could."

"And so I live to fight another day." Michael's voice was resigned, but at least he didn't sound as hopeless as he had when he'd first sat down. The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that Michael would be able to get past this and not let it scar him inwardly.

"Yes, you will," the Time Lord told him, releasing his hold on the other man and standing up, holding out a hand to his lover. "Come on, let's make dinner and sit down and watch a movie. I think you need to get your mind off everything that's happened."

Michael nodded slowly, reaching for the Doctor's hand and standing up beside him. In a quick movement that surprised the Time Lord, he slid his arms around the Doctor's slender waist and drew the other man against him, threading his hands through the other man's hair and tilting his head back to gaze at him.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispered, his eyes holding the Doctor's in a steady gaze. "You always know what to say to make me feel like I can .... keep doing what I do, even when everything else seems like it's falling apart around me. You're my saving grace, John."

"You won't ever have to be without me," the Doctor said softly, knowing as soon as he said that words that they weren't true. He couldn't stay here indefinitely, and Michael couldn't leave his work to be the Time Lord's companion. It was a hopeless situation.

But they didn't need to think about that now, he told himself. It was a problem that could be tackled on another day, when they were both ready to deal with it.

And .... when Michael actually knew who and what he was. If he ever got the courage to tell.

Was his own conscience so clear? After all, he hadn't been able to tell Michael the truth about himself, even as close as they were becoming. Did he have the right to withhold that from this man -- the man he was, he had to admit to himself, falling in love with?

Yet another question he'd have to ask himself when the time was more appropriate. But this wasn't the time, he reiterated inwardly, trying to push the thoughts down and lock them away. He had to concentrate on what Michael was feeling, not on wrestling with his own troubled conscience.

Taking his lover's hand in his, the Doctor turned to head toward the kitchen, firmly pushing those disturbing thoughts to the back of his mind. He'd deal with them later. When Michael was more able to cope with those kinds of revelations. When he himself felt more able to let them out.

Though he had to wonder if that day would ever come.

***